Galactic Prisms
by ItsClydeBitches221B
Summary: Jupiter and Caine attend a celebration of color - one that, shockingly, isn't too keen on clothes. (Written for the 10th JA fic challenge - "a story about an anniversary").


Jupiter stepped lightly off the transfer beam, her body painted in hues of blue. Quite literally. Beyond two cups and a piece of fabric placed strategically over her most important bits, her outfit consisted of the paint strokes Delia had gifted her with.

The cyborg in question arrived behind her, immediately dipping to press one more silver rhinestone to the edge of Jupiter's hip. Delia looked just like a female Advocate Bob and the machinery behind her face whirred in excitement.

"You look glorious, Your Majesty."

"I'm _naked_."

Delia straightened. A single cog clicked rhythmically. "That's what I said?"

"Ah."

Jupiter stepped forward with as much dignity as she could manage. They'd arrived in an out-of-the-way room at her insistence and Jupiter found she was equally grateful for the ship's warmth. She'd have been miserable in the cool, brittle air of the Aegis. Lifting a hand arched in light blue swirls, Jupiter stretched her fingertips in the humidity, letting out a tiny breath.

She was caught in that pose when the far door swung open.

Caine slipped through, his own body covered in paints ranging from an obscene orange to a dangerous red, spread over his neck and cheeks like targets for an attack—or indicators of where _he_ could maul. Jupiter's breath caught as the rest of him came into focus, skin naked but for the paints, a small cloth the only thing keeping it decent. Caine stopped before Jupiter, his bare toes just an inch or so from hers. A single finger traced the length of her colored hair.

He turned to Delia. "She's perfect."

Jupiter was torn between a blush and a smirk. The result was a rather awkward expression she was glad Caine missed.

Delia didn't miss a beat. "It was truly an honor to prepare Her Majesty for the festivities. I can only hope my work is deserving to grace such beauty."

That time Jupiter definitely blushed. Delia, while excessively humble, was also bolder than Jupiter was used to. Out of all the splices and cyborgs she'd encountered, Delia was one of the few who spoke her mind with ease, courtesy of her employment to the Sarian kingdom. Bred purely as an aesthetic servant, Delia's talents were considered minor, even negligible outside of this corner of space. T'sing had whispered in Jupiter's ear that had she been sold to any other family her life would have consisted of nothing but stitching gowns and painting murals for a dismissive audience—like those who had served Kalique, Jupiter recalled with a shudder. Here though, Delia flourished, and it was obvious she was the best. _Only_ the best for the new Abrasax queen.

"Really," Jupiter piped up. "At the risk of sounding ridiculously narcissistic, this is stunning." She gestured to her own body and didn't bother to hide her smile when Caine trailed his eyes appreciatively.

"You honor me, Your Majesty. Please, if you ever have need of me again…" Delia left the offer open, bending again to drag a kiss over Jupiter's hand. She rose with a smile. "At the very least I hope you'll join us for next year's celebration."

"Sure. I mean, I'd be honored. Too."

Delia slipped away as Caine chuckled, always enamored with Jupiter's awkwardness.

"You realize Sarian years equal fifty of Earth's?" he asked.

"Well I do now."

Jupiter didn't much care about time spans right now. Not when Caine was standing before her, naked except for that indecently short bit of cloth. Delia's peer had done a marvelous job on Caine as well, though admittedly his designs were far more simple: sweeps of those orange and reds, interspersed with a decorative line here and there. Nothing fancy—not for a splice—but Jupiter found that she enjoyed the simplicity of the designs. It fit him.

She cupped her hands into Caine's, leaning forward until her forehead rested against his shoulder. Jupiter let out a drawn-out sigh.

"I'm really doing this, huh?"

"There's still time to leave. If you wish."

"No, no… can't go pissing off half this galaxy."

Leaving would too. Jupiter really couldn't afford to reject this invitation, not when she'd need alliances is she ever hoped to fight back against Kalique and Titus. Stinger had sprung the news on Jupiter at the last possible moment, that one of the most powerful galactic regions was celebrating the anniversary of their Healing—1,000 years of color. Parties weren't so bad, though Jupiter hadn't expected to be going to one _naked_. Or nearly. Apparently clothes were distasteful to the Sarians at the best of times, outright unheard of during this festival. Their host had granted Jupiter and her party special permission to come with the remnants of their dignity intact, though Jupiter still wasn't sure she was ready to march out into a crowd with everything her mom had given her on blatant display.

"I feel like Leia. The slave version." Jupiter felt Caine's shoulder rumble with laughter. "What? Don't you think this is _weird_?"

"No. There's no shame or embarrassment in the legion. Except—" Caine paused to reconsider. "I was always smaller than the other lycantants. Paler too. No one else would consider hiding their body though."

"Neither should you," Jupiter purred. She delicately trailed two fingers up Caine's bicep. "Now, before I really get distracted, how about you put those broad shoulders of yours to use and give me some cover?"

"Of course,"

Caine swept Jupiter to the side, raising her arm to drape over his. Together they exited the way he'd come, Caine staying slightly in front of Jupiter as promised.

Jupiter took in a deep breath as the door opened, plastering a smile on her face. "Just like the girl's locker room," she muttered. "Except with guys and splices, cyborgs and aliens. _Great_."

Except it was great, surprisingly. They snuck in through an unnoticed side door, though their unconventional entrance didn't lessen the extravagance of the ballroom. There was enough color and wealth to send Jupiter's head spinning. All around her were Sarians and honored guests, their bodies painted in every shade and dye imaginable, many of which Jupiter didn't have names for. She saw the majority of the attendants chatting on the sidelines, sharing food and drink freely. Two Sarian women in yellow spoke animatedly to one another, their gestures appearing almost choreographed. Jupiter noted with admiration that each roll in their stomachs had been painted a different hue, giving them the illusion of stripes. A cyborg of Dalia's model hovered over a young man, weaving leaves into his hair, swatting at his ear when he squirmed impatiently. Many had begun dancing in the middle of the ballroom. Jupiter saw a man and a butterfly splice of unknown gender performing something akin to a waltz. Her breath caught at how the lights cascaded through the splice's wings, iridescent reflections scattered over their otherwise pink-painted body. Everyone around her—young and old, human and otherwise—appeared in high spirits, celebrating the beauty around them.

"Whoa. I could get used to this," Jupiter said. Still, she wrapped an arm self-consciously around her breasts as they began making their way through the crowd. The floor felt hot and sturdy beneath her bare feet.

Caine bent his head to whisper in her ear. "It's considered to be one of the most aesthetically pleasing celebrations. This is my first time, but our breeders often slip the echo of memories from previous packs into our genetic code. To assist in training, cultural knowledge… all this feels familiar." His eyes scanned the crowd, a wistful look in his eyes that Jupiter rarely got to see.

"Dance with me?" she asked, eyes alight.

"Afraid you'll have to table that for a 'sec. Gotta meet the big man first."

The two of them turned to find Stinger leaning on a nearby table, colored in various shades of dark green. He tipped a glass their way and then snatched up two more, slinking over. Jupiter accepted the glass and tried not to stare any lower than Stinger's neck.

"C'mon, Your Majesty," he grinned. "Nothin' to be embarrassed about around here."

"Says you," chimed a voice. "I think you have a great deal to be embarrassed about."

Kiza moved in beside them, painted in gold. Her swirling shades matched the pattern on her dad exactly.

"Caine. Your Majesty. _Looking good_."

Jupiter rolled her eyes and wrapped her free arm just a little bit tighter. "Uh huh. Thanks, Kiza."

"You're _so_ welcome—"

"Lower your arm," Caine hissed and Jupiter had just enough time to do so before a man—yes, a _big_ man—blew into their circle, arms spread wide and bowing deeply to Jupiter before he'd even finished moving. If it hadn't been for Caine's arm around her waist, she would have skittered backwards in surprise at him plowing through.

"Queen Jupiter!" he rumbled, awe seeping into his voice. "What a vision you are! Thank you so much for accepting our humble invitation." He dipped into another low bow.

'Humble,' was hardly the word, but Jupiter knew how to play this game by now. She bowed back, conscious of the dip of her breasts, and passed her drink to Kiza so that he could take her hands in his own, planting courteous kisses across the knuckles.

"Your Excellency," she greeted back. "It's… good to finally meet you in person."

"Lian, please. Let us dispense of these formalities. Tonight is certainly not the time for such… _stuffiness!_ " Indeed, Liam grinned in a manner so authentic that Jupiter couldn't help but smile back. It transformed his face and made it easier to meet his eyes. Like all Sarians, the king had the same cloudy film across his gaze, like a case of advanced cataracts. Jupiter knew the disfigurement was quite the gift though.

"Right," she said. "Tonight is a night of color." The ancient phrase brought another smile to Lian's lips.

"Yes, yes. Too right you are. Please! Eat, drink, dance your fill. You must excuse me. There are other guests I must—ah. Apini, come, come, you must meet General Stesh—Your Majesty, enjoy yourself, we can talk boring business on the morrow!"

Jupiter waved Lian, Stinger, and Kiza off, an uncomfortable knot settling in her stomach. Yes… discussing business was easier said than done. Jupiter couldn't very well go blazing into their council room tomorrow, claiming that she wanted to eliminate the very thing they celebrated tonight.

The Sarians, due to whatever genetic quirk of fate, were all born without the ability to see in color. Not the worst thing when all was said and done, but that didn't mean their doctors and scientists hadn't spent decades attempting to find a cure. 1,000 years to the day, they had.

Regene-X.

Two drops in a Sarian child's eyes—provided it was administered early enough—induced color in their vision, apparently to an even greater extent than normal humans possessed. Who would deny them that gift? Jupiter, apparently. At least, that's what the rumors said, the reason why His Excellency had invited her to this sacred affair when Entitles had never been permitted before. Surely if they showed the Reincarnated Queen how much joy Regene-X brought the people, she'd never think of taking it away.

It was true that they didn't use much, just four drops per person. That was it. One bottle of Regene-X could cure entire cities, miniscule amounts passed around an entire hospital, such a simple procedure bringing such light to their lives.

Still. That didn't outweigh the costs. Right?

"Think about it tomorrow."

Jupiter startled at the feeling of Caine's lips on the back of her neck, then immediately melted into the touch. She was too conscious though of the stares and giggling whispers. As Entitled, Jupiter was the only one painted in blue.

"There," she murmured. "I did my duty. Made an appearance, met the King… want to take a break?"

Caine didn't need to be asked twice. He swept Jupiter against him, hurrying them back the way they'd come, gently steering through dancers and conversationalists. They didn't return to the drop off point though, but rather slipped into another out of the way room, this one equipped with a table.

"Why, Caine. I like the way you thi— _mm!_ "

Jupiter was cut off by his kiss, Caine's mouth hot against hers, his lips slick from the ship's humidity. For long minutes they simply explored like they hadn't in months, Caine's tongue occasionally lapping against Jupiter's, like she was water and he a man dying of thirst. Jupiter didn't realize he'd been guiding them towards the table until her ass found the edge. With a growl she slipped hands down Caine's thighs and pulled him against her, using his momentum to grind against the wood at her back.

They broke apart with a gasp, Caine letting out a huff against Jupiter's hair.

"What?" she panted

"Nothing. You're magnificent."

Now it was Jupiter's turn to laugh. "Oh. Is that all?"

"Mmm." Caine was nipping at her ear, toying with the lobe, sucking it, working it in a way that shouldn't have been sexy but _was_.

"There is nothing odd about nakedness for a splice. Or even color. Though seeing both, on you…" he set about massaging her breasts, working the edge of the cups covering Jupiter's nipples. Within seconds Caine had created an edge and ripped the cups off with his teeth.

" _Fuck_ ," Jupiter gasped. Caine had one hand pressed against her clit, giving her something to buck against. "You think it's any easier seeing you painted in _red_?"

Caine's mouth was a little busy mouthing at her tit. He trailed down with wet, slopping kisses and Jupiter felt another, totally different kind of gratefulness towards Delia. The paint the Serians used was non-toxic and permanent without the remover. For all intents and purposes, the bright starburst Caine was mouthing by Jupiter's naval was her true skin—ruby-red lips merging with blue.

Jupiter had kept her thoughts firmly PG in preparation for this party, but apparently her body had been waiting impatiently. She was already wet enough to feel a drop or two easing between her thighs and when Caine slipped in a finger—just one, a tease that bastard—Jupiter curled against it, letting Caine lift her fully onto the table and throwing her legs around his back. Jupiter ground her heels into him and reached for his erection.

His other hand stopped her though. Panting, pupils blown wide, Caine brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing Jupiter like two others had tonight. Oh, but his was different. Needier. Meaningful. Caine took a bit of skin between his teeth and worried it delicately.

He slipped a second finger in, causing Jupiter to let out a grown of encouragement.

"Now's for you," he growled, pushing further into her, hooking the tips of his fingers and circling his thumb around her clit. Jupiter bit her lip in an attempt not to scream. The party out there was loud, but not _that_ loud.

"Sounds good," she gasped. "Want to hurry things up then?"

"No." But he did add a third finger, more than enough for Jupiter given the size of his hands. Caine slowly eased them out before sweeping them back in, beginning to fuck Jupiter with faster, shallower strokes. She tiled her head back and pulled Caine even closer. It couldn't have been comfortable for him like that, bent over from her shaking legs, trying to work her on the table, but Caine certainly wasn't complaining. If anything he appeared to revel in this 'break.' He leaned to press hurried kisses against her naval and when he finally released her hand, he smoothed Jupiter's hair back against her forehead. A tender gesture amidst the indecency.

"Fucking love you," Jupiter said. She gasped a laugh, finding Caine's dyed strands and tugging them sharply. "Say it."

"Your Majesty."

"Other one."

" _Jupiter_."

Caine dropped, sliding out from her legs to kneel on the floor, setting to work on her vagina with his tongue. Jupiter let out a shout and leaned all the way back, her eyes blown wide, searching, sightless, until they found the mural on the ceiling: an array of stars, forming constellations for stories she didn't know.

Body rocking with Caine, stuttering her breaths, Jupiter stared at the stars and wondered if any of them spoke of moments like this, when everything was so comically simple. Tomorrow there would be decisions—regarding life and death, rights and wrongs—but for now Jupiter was simply a woman, painted on a day of celebration, the mouth of the man she loved whispering endearments between her thighs.

Tomorrow was for another Jupiter. Tonight could be for her.

And when this Jupiter came, her vision flooded with color. A whole prism for her to behold.


End file.
